Of the aeroplane which overcomes
The gentle sound of Tibetan Bells
That long lasting drone
Which vibrates as if for ever
Thus disturbing my meditation
Yet I am not on a flight path
To anywhere in particular
Indeed if to anywhere at all
But still the noises are up there
So someone must be going somewhere
Though for sure it isn't me
For I am here and I am sitting
Letting the thoughts just come and go
On this sunshine Monday morning
Where I now try to tune into the heavens
Or at least to the hum of those silver bullets
Which thrash about the jet-streamed skies
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